Dead Squad: Season 2, book 5 - Hunted
by mandowriter
Summary: Directly after 'Inferno', Taler and the crew of the Trailbreaker find themselves chased by Prazon Kexx and the sinister Hydra Corp. Forced to crash on Concordia, Taler plays a deadly game of cat and mouse through an abandoned Beskar processing plant with the sadistic crime lord, as he tries to buy his friends enough time to repair the ship and escape.. with or without him
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1**

 **Forced Landing**

 _Polaris J370 civilian cruiser "Wrath of Telos"_

 _Hydra Corp vessel_

 _Low Orbit around Mandalore_

"Let them go, they are not our prize," Prazon Kexx announced as he stood in front of the main view screen, watching the last of his ships turbo laser bolts tear across space after a fleeing Consular class cruiser. He had seen many Republic dignitaries use them for trade discussions, but this one must have been acquired, the unique paint design – though deeply damaged by his ships assault – was clearly not Republic. The ship limped further and further away until it hit high orbit and made the jump to lightspeed, vanishing into nothingness.

"Ground units are asking for reinforcements, sir," a young twi'lek announced from somewhere behind him.

Prazon Kexx ignored them and continued to keep his eyes locked on the curvature of the planet beneath him, waiting for the Corellian freighter to break orbit. His eye twitched imperceivably, the only outward expression of his anger. He had been made a fool of on his own ship by some common bounty hunter and his lacky. The insult would not go unpunished.

"Sir, we have lost contact with the ground," the twi'lek announced nervously.

"Detecting a massive explosion in the vicinity of the bunker, sir," another voice yelled.

Prazon watched as the storm clouds that had been growing stronger over the drop zone rippled as a shock wave raced through them, the centre bursting into a glowing ball of light. The clouds dissipated along with the shockwave, leaving only a column of black smoke billowing up into the upper atmosphere.

"Track all turbo lasers forward," he said calmly and crisply. He maintained the air of confidence, of being in control. It was how he maintained his power, through fear. His men knew that he was sadistic, and ruthless. If they saw him yelling in anger, he would lose that fear. "Prepare to fire on my mark."

"Aye, sir," the gunnery officer replied. A dull grown echoed through the ships frame as panels slipped aside and hidden turbo lasers slipped out and into firing position.

Almost as if he had predicted it, a ship shot up out of the blast towards space, the upper hull charred by the leading edge of the blast. The engines were coughing black smoke as they were being pushed past their limits, one flickering as it suddenly started to fail.

"Target the port side engine and fire," Prazon ordered, his hands folded behind his back.

Green lances of energy shot out from the front of the ship and slammed into the port side engine, a shower of sparks and flames bursting from the shattered plating. The ship listed slightly, now struggling to make the final step out of the planets gravity.

"Close in to within five thousand meters and prepare to disable their drives," he added, turning to glance over his shoulder towards the gunnery position. With a simple nod, he gave them the order to open fire.

But before they could, the ship lurched suddenly, and Prazon stumbled forwards, his arms shooting out to stop himself as he fell against the view screen. Turning back to look out the front of the ship, he saw another volley of red bolts racing towards them and slam into the forward hull, two of the five turbo lasers exploding into useless shrapnel. He growled angrily, his plated brow lowering into a scowl.

"Fire," he snarled.

"They have damaged our targeting computers," the gunnery officer said. Prazon pushed himself away from the view screen and stormed across the bridge. He grabbed hold of the gunnery officer by the back of his collar and threw him across the bridge with his powerful arms. The gunnery officer slammed into the far wall, an ominous crack echoing through the room as his head snapped back sharply and he fell limply to the floor. Leaning over the console, Prazon slammed his fingers down on the control and sent more green energy bolts tearing through space. Many went wide, some getting close, with three striking home and causing the number two engine to begin to fail.

The ship broke free of the atmosphere just as a hatch on the starboard side ruptured and they began venting air. The ship banked hard and aimed itself at the one of the two moons that orbited Mandalore.

"Follow them," Prazon ordered.

"Yes, sir," the pilot said quickly, the motionless body of the gunnery officer still crumpled in a heap in the corner of the bridge. Prazon moved to the front of the bridge once more and stood in front of the view screen. The Corellian freighter raced towards the moon.

On board that ship were the men who had defied him, killed many of his thugs, and then faked their own deaths by blowing out one of his escape pods and making him believe that they had been reduced to dust in the cold, nothingness of space. And now they were in a ship, leaking life-blood into the vacuum of space, where they would suffocate and die.

He could not help but smile at the irony of the situation. Soon, they would pay for their deceit.

* * *

 _YG-4210 freighter "Trail-breaker"_

Jenna Nova stumbled into the wall as the ship bucked beneath her. Another turbo laser blast slamming into the engines and sending the ship into an even deeper dive than they already had been in before. She felt herself being pulled forwards as the ship leaned, and she knew then that they had re-entered the atmosphere of a planet or moon. Supporting herself against the walls, she edged her way towards the front of the ship.

The roar of the engines were deafening as they were pushed past the red line and the ship itself began to vibrate as it dropped through the thickening air around them.

A deep boom echoed through the ship and it lurched forwards once more, sending Jenna stumbling into the bulkhead in front of her.

" _Shab,_ " she hissed, narrowly avoiding smacking her head against a girder.

They had entered the atmosphere.

Pushing forwards, she rounded the corner and slipped through the doorway onto the bridge, stopping just inside and looking out through the view screen that spanned the entire width of the cockpit. White clouds raced passed them, and the flames of re-entry still licked against the nose of the ship as they burnt across the sky. Beneath the clouds, she could see the jagged, rocky mountains of Concordia.

"Are we crashing?" she asked, turning to the pilot. It was the female Mandalorian who had caught her trying to escape, and had painfully restrained her – and by that she meant she had broken her nose. She had heard her been called Madhi, and the name sounded oddly familiar. She couldn't quite think where she had heard it.

The ship lurched hard to starboard. That train of thought would have to wait. Dashing to the console on the starboard side of the cockpit, Jenna tapped the controls and brought up the ships diagnostics screen. It showed a plan of the ship, and the port side and central engine were both flashing red.

"We have lost number one and two engines, and number three is on the verge of failure," she yelled over the sound of the groaning ship. Green turbo laser bolts tore past the view screen and detonated in bursts of orange and red, black smoke erupting in deathly flowers around them as they fell.

Foots steps came racing down the corridor behind them, and as Jenna turned around, she saw Taler step through the door, the casual clothes and the Bantha hide jacket he had been wearing minutes before replaced by his scratched and battered, white and red Mandalorian armour. He looked so much like the Jango Fett she had seen growing up, his face on posters and on the holonet across the galaxy. The champion of Mandalore.

He slipped his blasters into their holsters as he stood in the doorway and glared out through the view screen.

"Get us down," he said in a commanding voice.

"Gonna happen anyway," Madhi hissed through gritted teeth, her whole body tense as she gripped the control yolk with all her strength.

"As close as you can to one of those old facilities," he yelled, pointing to the outcroppings of buildings far to the west.

Jenna looked out the view screen towards them. The sun was setting beyond them and casting a long shadow across the desert floor. The ship pitched hard to the right and Madhi pulled the ship around in a sweeping arc.

"You," Taler barked. Jenna spun around and looked directly at him, and for the first time she looked directly into his eyes.

In that moment, she stopped seeing Jango's face, and instead, she saw another. It was the face of a young man, fear rippling the corners of his deep azure eyes, but a determined frown creasing his brow. It was the face of a scared little boy, but also the face of a seasoned soldier. It was the face of someone who had seen nothing of life, and yet seen too much of death.

"Come with me," he said calmly, his words more an order than a request. Jenna could do nothing more on the bridge, and decided she should at least try and make herself useful. Taler turned and left the room, and she followed. He walked quickly through the corridor and stepped into the medi-bay, Jenna only a few steps behind him.

She came to a sudden stop just inside the doorway as the scene in front of her knocked the air from her lungs.

Kyr'am was lying on the medical stretcher against the wall, his helmet removed, and his upper armour plates cast aside. Pads were pressed onto his chest and cables stretched towards a machine that beeped every few seconds. His eyes were closed, and his face looked calm. The astromech droid was standing beside him, its interface probe locked into the computer terminal on the wall, its photoreceptor turned to look up at Kyr'am. It almost sounded as though it was crying.

"I need you to stay here with him and do everything you can to keep him stable," Taler said, his back turned to Kyr'am as he looked at the screens. After looking, he turned and walked across to the other side of the medi bay and began taking out sharps of adrenalin and slipping them into his belt. He grabbed a few more field kits and stored them. He moved about so fast that Jenna had trouble keeping up with him.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, not understanding what was going on.

"We are going to crash, there's no way out of that," Taler said simply. "I will make sure that they follow me away from the ship. When I do, I'll need Sparky to fix up the ship and get her flying again. Think you can do that for me, buddy?" he asked the droid, not turning to look at him.

The droid tweeted something that sounded like a yes, still whining as it turned back to glance longingly at Kyr'am. His breathing was shallow and slow.

"And while he fixes up the ship, I need you to look after Kyr'am," Taler finished, packing the last of the supplied into his belt.

"I should come with you," Jenna said.

"I work better by myself," Taler said angrily. "I need you here…"

"You can't face them alone..." she interrupted. But Taler cut her off sharply, grabbing hold of her by her armour and shoving her hard against the bulkhead. The droids photoreceptor spun around to look at them.

"You WILL stay here and make sure that he does not die!" he barked. Jenna was taken aback by the outburst. His face was barely inches from her own now, and she could see it was contorted in pain, tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. "He will not die. If he does, I'll make you pay."

Jenna grabbed his wrists and pushed him away.

"What does it matter to you if he does?" she said angrily, annoyed at being manhandled, but more annoyed at being caught off guard.

"Just make sure he's still here when I get back," Taler hissed, moving towards the door.

"If you care so much about him, why can't you look at him?" she snapped. "If you care so much about him, why did you leave?"

Taler stopped in the doorway, his hands clenched tightly by his side, his knuckles turning white. The silence of the room was only broken by the whine of the remaining engine, and the steady beeping of the monitors. He half turned to look over his shoulder, but as the view of Kyr'am touched the edges of his vision, he froze.

"He's my _Buir_ ," he said quietly. "But he deserves a better son than I can be."

"Taler, I…" Jenna began, but a loud crack thundered through the hull and the ship bounced hard.

"Brace!" Madhi's voice yelled from the cockpit.

The world leapt up, everything lifting clear of the deck as they slammed down hard onto the desert floor. The ship slowed sharply, and Jenna, Taler, and Sparky were sent tumbling into the wall. Jenna felt her head crack against the bulkhead and she fell to the floor. The lights above them exploded in a shower of glass and sparks, and then, darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

 **Bait and Switch**

 _YG-4210 freighter "Trail-breaker"_

 _Concordia_

 _Second moon of Mandalore_

It was after midnight and she ran through the house of her family, the rooms dark, shadows of furniture flashing past her in the gloom. Everything was oversized, bigger than it should be, a house of giants. She could hear whispered voices up ahead, talking quietly, angrily.

"What about your little girl?" one hissed.

"She will understand when she is older," a deeper one said calmly.

Rounding the corner, she saw the shadows of people splashed across the wall, blinding lights bursting in from the open door in the hallway. She was almost there.

"You're not even going to say goodbye?"

"I can't."

The light began to fade. She ran faster, rounding the corner as the door closed, the lights beyond shining in through the windows either side. Throwing herself against the transparisteel, she banger her fists hard against the barrier, screaming at the top of her voice, but no sound could be heard. The figure walked away from the house towards the light.

They did not turn around. The light flared brightly, almost as though it was exploding, engulfing the figure. A shockwave slammed into the windows, shattering the transparisteel. A deafening roar enveloped her, and threw her backwards into darkness.

* * *

Jenna felt the world fading back into view as the darkness that had wrapped itself around her mind slowly receded. It was replaced with a different type of darkness. She had been floating weightless in the nothingness of her mind, the memories of the past few days blurring with the images of her childhood. Her head was pounding like a Rancor was stomping through her brain, and as she looked up, a rain of sparks erupted from the ceiling of the medibay.

Struggling up and sitting back against the bulkhead, she noticed that the ship was leaning to the side, the whole room pitched sideways. The memories of the crash came flooding back and her eyes shot up sharply towards where the stretcher had been moments before. In the flickering light of the shattered illuminators above her, she could see the shape of Kyr'am as he still lay on the stretcher, the straps across his chest holding him in place.

On its side in the corner of the room, she could see the cylindrical body of the astromech droid as it shook its legs in a futile attempt to right itself. Its photoreceptor swept from side to side and it tweeted and chirped angrily.

Struggling to her feet, she crossed the room and leaned over Kyr'am, checking his pulse with her fingers, the screen above him cracked and broken. A black star burst on his arm showed where his skin had been burnt by the shower of sparks that had rained down on them during the crash, but he was still breathing.

The astromech grumbled angrily in the corner.

"Okay, okay," Jenna said impatiently. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay," she said. He squeaked something rude in return, but she could not understand him. Edging herself down towards it, the floor sloping down, she kicked some debris off the floor and knelt down, reaching under it and righting it with a struggled. It weighed more than she thought.

Finally upright, its photoreceptor looked up at Kyr'am, and it moaned sadly for a moment, before spinning its dome-like head towards the door and zooming off out into the corridor. It had just reached the doorway when another figure emerged in the light-filled rectangle.

It was Taler.

"How is he?" he said simply, the glowing red T-visor staring across the broken room to where Kyr'am lay. Jenna looked up at him as she stood.

"He's alive," she said simply.

"Keep him that way," Taler said simply, looking directly at her, his eyes boring into hers from behind the blood coloured visor. The air around them was filled with silence, and Jenna struggled to maintain eye contact. She had never once broken a stare, it had always been a sign of weakness.

The stalemate came to an end when Madhi appeared beside Taler and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her and she handed him a data pad. The screen flickered from image to image, but Jenna could not see it clearly enough to make it out. Madhi turned towards her and threw her a helmet. As Jenna caught it, she realised that it was her own. She must have left it in the cockpit.

She looked up in time to see something else sail through the air towards her. Her reactions kicked in and her hand shot out to catch it. Glaring down at the cylinder she now held in her hand, she noticed that one end of it was built like a droid data interface.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Beacon," Madhi said simply, before turning towards the front of the ship and vanishing down the corridor. As she walked, Jenna noticed the irregular pace. She was limping. She must have hurt her leg in the landing.

"What's the beacon for?" Jenna asked, turning to Taler who was still looking down at the data pad. He looked up at her, almost as if he had not heard her question.

"It's a back-up if things don't go to plan," Taler said grimly, the voice of the young, scared boy suddenly replace by that of a soldier, filtered through the helmets speakers. He turned and began to leave, heading off down the corridor. Jenna stood for a moment, confused by the seemingly cryptic statement, before she ran out after him.

"Hey, wait," she yelled.

She found him stood by the cockpit door, slipping his blaster into its holster and picking up the long sniper rifle that had been placed against the wall. She recognised it as the one Kyr'am had been carrying on Hoth.

"Madhi and Sparky will repair what they can and keep main power running," Taler said, not looking at her, checking the ammo clip in the sniper rifle before slinging over his shoulder. Reaching inside the cockpit once more, he grabbed a long brown coat and pulled it over him. It was a little small for him, but he wore it well.

"I can help you," Jenna said angrily.

"Stay here, keep them safe," Taler said with a finality that Jenna had not expected. He turned and tapped the button on the wall beside a bulkhead. The emergency hatch popped in the floor, and there was a twenty foot drop to the desert floor. She looked out through the cockpit, and beyond the view screen she could see the stone outcropping that they had crashed into. Turning back, she saw Taler step up to the open hatch and look down.

"You can't do this alone," she hissed. He looked back over his shoulder.

"I'm always alone," he said.

Taking a step, he fell through the hole in the floor and vanished.

* * *

 _Polaris J370 civilian cruiser "Wrath of Telos"_

 _Hydra Corp vessel_

The loading ramp was slowly lowering as the ship ticked silently, the engines cooling in the dry evening sun. The sun was setting far in the west, the brown-green crescent of Mandalore sweeping across the southern horizon. A silent breeze swept across the desert floor, and as Prazon stepped down the incline out onto the dusty ground, he could see the silent gantries of the Beskar works to the north, the mining pumps silent and still, the cranes rusted and broken. Empty buildings sat patiently in the setting sun, bathed in the orange glow, the shadows stretching out like begging hands.

To the west of the abandoned foundry works, smoke still billowing from the broken engines, the wreckage of the Corellian freighter lay almost impaled on a rocky outcropping. Prazon had ordered that they sweep low over the crash, making sure that they were disabled enough to prevent them from escaping. As the ship passed over, scans had shown irregular footsteps moving away from the downed ship towards the foundry site, and a few hundred meters from it, they had detected a body. It lay motionless in the sand.

The 'Wrath of Telos' had landed on a flat area to the south, with the fallen figure between them and the foundry.

"There's definitely something there, sir," the Aqualish grunted, its double mandible jaw salivating in the heat of the setting sun. Their thick hair covered body was not used to the heat, and he stood sheltering his eyes with the back of his arm. The sun had heated the desert all day, and the haze still blurred the distant horizon, making it impossible to see anything but a dark, shimmering shadow.

"I already knew that, you simpleton," Prazon said calmly, but a sliver of annoyance creeping into his voice. "Now why don't you find out if it's a person or a bit of debris?"

The Aqualish nodded and waved his hand to one of the men who were standing in neat ranks behind them. The nearest broke away and jogged to his side. Without a word, he sent him off towards the wreck, a silent order to find out what had happened. The soldier broke into a jog and became less and less clear as he ran through the haze.

Prazon sighed. He was an educated being. He could have been a senator had he chosen to be. But he did not like the hypocrisy of the senate. They paraded themselves around as though they were paragons of virtue, but if anyone was to even knick the surface, they would discover the corruption that ran through to the very heart of the Republic. As one of the heads of Hydra Corp. he still had to maintain the 'respectable' face of a business man, but he was free to be as ruthless and as corrupt as he wished. He had even personally executed one of his enemies in the company of corrupt senators and law officials. He had looked at them in disgust as they had turned away from the scene, knowing full well that they had ordered men to do the same for them, but that they were unwilling to get their own hands dirty in order to maintain their clean cut reputation.

'If only the galaxy knew the truth,' he thought.

They had lost sight of the soldier who had been sent to examine the body, and it had been a few minutes longer than Prezon would have liked. He began to suspect foul play. The Aqualish seemed to notice this and began to get worried. When Prazon got impatient, people began to die, usually those closest to him.

"What's taking him so long?" he hissed, turning towards the men who still stood silently behind him. He called another over and held out his hand. The soldier took out a small cylinder and slapped it firmly into his hand before taking a step back. The Aqualish was about to put the microbinocs to his eye when Prazon stole the device and looked for himself.

In the distance he could see the shimmering pool of darkness that he assumed was the body they had seen at the end of the footsteps. And beside it he could see another figure, kneeling down. It was one of his own soldiers. Neither figure seemed to be moving.

"Poki," the Aqualish hissed into his communicator. "What are you doing?"

Prazon could not watch it any longer. He was surrounded by incompetence. He casually threw the microbinocs back at the Aqualish as he stood beside him, and turned to face his men.

"Poki," he hissed again. "Damn it, Poki, stop wasting time…"

Prazon turned just in time to see the flash of white where the shadow was sprawled across the floor. An inaudible boom echoed through the ground, and the lenses of the microbinocs shattered, a splash of red bursting from where they were pressed against the Aqualish's eye, and the back of his head exploded as a projectile shell tore through his skull. His body went limp, and fell to the floor in a heap.

The men who had been standing in neat ranks staggered back in shock, none of them expecting that to happen. Prazon turned slowly towards the shadow and watched as the long figure that had been on the floor began to rise. They stood up and even without the microbinocs, Prazon could now see them clearly through the haze, the sniper rifle held in their hands.

They stood still.

Long minutes passed as Prazon stared back at the figure, wondering what they were thinking, the men who stood behind him uncertain what to do.

"What are you doing?" Prazon whispered.

Almost as though they had heard, the figure lifted the sniper rifle suddenly and two distant booms echoed though the growing twilight. The men all ducked, some hitting the ground, others dropping to their knees and bringing up their own blasters. But the shots did not hit them.

Two metallic _zing_ sounds cracked off the hull of the ship, followed by a hissing crackle. As Prezon turned to look, he saw the communications array spitting electronic sparks through a hole in the casing, and from beneath the hull, a torrent of fuel fell out onto the sandy ground as the refuel hatch lock was shattered, instantly dumping out gallons of fuel reserves.

"He's taken out the radio, and we are losing fuel," an anonymous voice called from the crowd.

Prazon turned back to the figure just in time to see them turn and begin to run towards the foundry. A sudden surge of anger flooded his body. He was stranded on a desert moon with next to no fuel and no communications. He was being made a fool of in front of his men.

That was too far.

Pacing forwards rapidly, he ducked down and grabbed the blaster rifle from the body of the dead Aqualish. Checking the charge, he then turned to his men and growled at them.

"Bring me his head," he sneared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

 **Hide and Sneak**

 _Kliftoam Beskar processing plant_

 _Abandoned_

 _Concordia_

 _Second moon of Mandalore_

Prazon and his men arrived at the edge of the processing complex just as the last rays of sunshine faded away over the edge of the horizon, the darkness of night reaching across the skies, the crescent of Mandalore like a scythe, hanging low over the desert. Bringing his men to a halt near the walls, and looking through the gates that barely hung on their hinges, he stood still and listened to the noises on the wind.

Chains gently clinked as they were brushed against the towering cranes. Sheets billowed like sails as they fluttered around the shattered windows and were draped over abandoned cargo containers. Rusted hinges groaned loudly as heavy, broken doors were slowly pulled open by gravity. But beneath it all, he could hear footsteps running. Heavy boots slammed down onto metallic floors, echoes carried along narrow passages as their prey slipped through the complex unseen.

Stepping through the gates, he heard his men follow him in and they instantly began to form up around him, making a circle to keep him safe. He did not need it, he was more than capable of defending himself, but he liked the thought that they would lay down their own lives for him. It was the power he wielded. He could make them chose death over failure, because they knew that there were fates worse than death for those who disappointed, or displeased him.

A crack shattered the other sounds, a sniper bolt tearing through the twilight gloom and passing through the guard in front of him. A splatter of red splashed across the tips of his shoes as the guard crumpled, and a cloud of dust was kicked up into the air as the bolt slammed into the floor between Prazon's feet. The soldiers all tensed up, pressing their blasters even further into their shoulders as their eyes swept nervously around the abandoned buildings.

"There," one yelled, pointing to a vantage point high above them. Half the men turned and began firing indiscriminately up at the tower, the canvas sheet billowing out to show there was no one there.

A second shot from the building to their right wounded another soldier, the bold searing through his lower leg, the bone within shattering and splinters of it tearing through the rear. He fell to the floor, screaming in pain as the soldiers all turned to this new threat. They fired again, this time into an empty window.

"They're everywhere," one of the soldiers cried.

The soldiers turned to fire in all directions, spraying blaster bolts into any building where a shadow moved.

"Cease fire," Prazon growled.

The pained screams of the fallen soldier continued to shriek out as he clutched his leg, lying on his side in the dust. They were getting unnerved.

"CEASE FIRE!" he yelled again.

Still they did not listen. Prazon lifted his blaster and with a quick flick of his finger, sent a single bolt through the uninjured leg of the soldier lying on the floor, amplifying his screams. His gathered forces all stopped suddenly and turned to look at him in fear and confusion, some stepping back, fearing they would be next.

Silence fell like a heavy shroud over the darkening facility, the only sounds now the whimpering of the Nikto on the floor.

"Search every building, every tunnel. Flush him out," Prazon said through gritted teeth, locking each of his men with a deathly stare. He wanted them to know that if they failed him, they would be better off dying at their attacker's hands than his own. That fear would be enough to motivate them.

"Prazon!" a voice barked out from nowhere.

The soldiers tensed visibly, many of them lifting their blasters to their shoulders once more. They looked around as the last glimmer of daylight vanished, plunging them into night.

"You have one chance to turn around and leave," the voice said. Prazon listened, trying to isolate where the voice was coming from, even though he knew it would have been relayed through different amplifiers to disguise their prey's location. The voice was modulated by the speakers, but he could tell that it sounded too young to be Kyr'am. It must have been the other Mandalorian who had been with him.

"You're threats are empty," he yelled in return, making sure his words were heard. "I know there's only one of you," he added with malice. "And I know you're trying to keep us away from the old man. But trust me, once we are done with you – and that shouldn't take long – we will find him and he will pay for disrespecting me."

"Last warning," the voice replied simply.

Prazon let a malicious grin cross his face as he signalled for his men to move out.

"Fan out, and find him," he hissed.

The men slowly moved away, heading towards the still buildings, lights flaring into life on the tops of their blasters as they swept them over the dead complex. The injured Nikto still lay whimpering on the floor beside Prazon, blood pouring from both his legs as the pain crippled him. Without looking down, Prazon pointed his blaster at the alien's chest and squeezed the trigger. A deafening crack echoed through the night, and the whimpering ended.

* * *

Taler leaned down from the gantry high above the foundry floor inside one of the larger buildings in the complex. The chains swayed in the wind that was snaking through the broken windows, beams of light sweeping nervously through the gloom as a small group of Hydra Corp. soldiers stepped slowly into the building. They muttered silently between themselves, but their voices carried on the swirling winds up to where Taler watched.

Blinking at the corner of his HUD, he activated the thermal scanner and watched as five red glowing figures appeared in the darkness, walking slowly across the silent foundry floor.

"I've never seen the boss so riled like this," one said, the HUD isolating him with a green line around his body. As he stopped speaking, the line vanished.

"He's losing it," another said.

"Wouldn't you if you were being haunted by ghosts?"

"They aren't ghosts," another snapped angrily. "So shut up and find them. The sooner we kill him the less likely we are to be killed by Kexx."

Taler looked up from his vantage point and saw the large generator hanging from the crane above them. With another quick glance down, he saw that they were in the target area. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a blade flying from his palm and it sliced through the rope that was holding the generator in place. The rope snapped, and the generator fell with a rush to the ground.

The soldier at the back noticed it and yelled.

"Look out," he barked. The others turned and saw the mass of metal falling towards them. They leapt out of the way, vanishing into a plume of dust and sand as the generator slammed into the floor, crushed under its own weight. As the dust cloud enveloped them, Taler stepped off the gantry and fell.

He edged his way through the debris, his feet light yet certain. He made no noise as he moved between them, their red glowing heat signatures still as vivid on his HUD in the dust as they had been in the darkness. Two lay sprawled across the floor, and kneeling beside them, he grabbed the backs of their heads and slammed them into the floor, knocking them unconscious.

A figure rushed towards him. He stood up and held out his hand. They ran into his arm, their head snapping back painfully before they crashed onto the floor. A well placed kick to the side of the head silenced them.

'Three down,' he thought, turning and drawing his brother's blaster. Crouching down, he edged closer to the nearest figure, his species unidentifiable from his heat scan, and the image too vague to define. He was humanoid, that was all he could fathom, but it did not matter. Stepping up behind him, he wrapped his arm around his neck and pressed his other arm against the back of his skull, narrowing the windpipe and silently knocking him out. The body went limp in his arms, and as he dragged it back to the other three, he heard another move closer. Tucking a small cylinder into the belt of the unconscious mercenary, he lowered him onto the floor.

The plume of dust was starting to settle now, and he backed away from the centre of the room, heading towards a small group of machines that lined the walls. Ducking into the shadows of the nearest processor, he watched as one of the group found the unconscious quartet.

"Here," he yelled, waving to his fellow thugs. They rushed forwards, their lights sweeping across the pile of comatose soldiers.

"What the hell if going on?" the first one hissed, his rifle braced even tighter against his shoulder as he looked around like a startled Ewok. The last of the men were now in range, and Taler reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out a small black block. Flicking the safety catch at the top, he mashed his thumb down on the red button revealed beneath. A blinding ball of light erupted from the cylinder in the belt of one of the mercenaries, and it engulfed the suddenly screaming soldiers in a wall of light and noise.

Taler had to shield his visor from the glare for a moment by raising his arm in front of his helmet, but when he lowered it again, he could see all but one of the soldiers had been incapacitated by the flash bang. The lone survivor was crawling unsteadily on the floor, his arm tight across his face as he moaned in pain from the intensity of the light.

"Help," he groaned, swaying as he struggled to crawl away.

Taler could see others approaching the building through the walls as his heat scanner penetrated the Permacrete structure. He backed away slowly and slipped down into the tunnels that ran beneath the complex.

"He's in here," he heard him yell. "Please, help…"

A single shot rang out through the building as a plasma bolt silenced his please. Taler staggered to a stop, his stomach suddenly feeling tight and queasy. Prazon had just killed the mercenary, just as he had killed the wounded Nikto. He felt his blood run cold.

Why did it bother him so much? Less than an hour before he had shot an Aqualish soldier and killed him outright. He had been at risk of being cornered and it had been his only option. But the guard just now had been no threat. He was injured and disarmed. And Prazon simply shot him.

It did not seem right.

His thoughts were broken by the crackling of the comlink in his helmet. With a blink towards the icon on the side of the HUD, he activated the link and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Go ahead," he hissed.

"Taler, it's Jenna," the soft voice spoke. His heart jumped again, and he was not sure it if was anger or… A thought stopped him in his tracks. Was she calling because something had happened. He stopped suddenly.

"Kyr'am?" he asked quietly, his voice suddenly soft with concern.

"He's fine," she mumbled. "I mean, he's still alive."

With his fears somewhat diminished, he looked up and saw the red figures beginning to spread out once more. At the centre, standing over a rapidly cooling body, he saw a larger figure with four arms. It was Prazon. His anger returned.

"Kinda busy, here," he growled, breaking into a silent run through the tunnel beneath the complex. He ducked down a passage to the left, and then an immediate right. He had scanned the layout on his approach, and he had committed it all to memory. He knew that up ahead, there was a junction that would lead him down to the smelting facility.

"We have a problem," Jenna said quietly.

"I know, and I'm dealing with it," Taler said sharply. Did she not understand what he was trying to do? "Just make sure that the ship is ready to go when I get back."

"That's not the issue," Jenna replied.

"One problem at a time," Taler said calmly. "We can sort it after I've…"

"The republic is here…"

Taler almost lost his footing as he staggered to a sudden stop.

"What?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh, _shab!_ "


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

 **New Player**

 _Kliftoam Beskar processing plant_

 _Abandoned_

 _Concordia_

 _Second moon of Mandalore_

Taler clambered up the last few rungs of the ladder out of the tunnel and into the smelting chamber. The room was filled with massive containers that were hanging from the ceiling high above him. Each one was suspended by chains from a carriage that ran along a track that entered the room at one end and looped back around on itself as it reached the far wall. Taler had never seen anything like this working before, but just from studying it with his HUD on night mode, he could see that the containers came in empty, and as they passed beneath a sloping chute, they would be filled with the smelted beskar ore and then taken through to the casting room.

As he was looking up at the ceiling, a shaft of light swept across the room. His head snapped down to where it had come from and he blinked at the HUD controls again, switching from night mode to heat scanners. The HUD went black for a moment, the green haze of night mode vanishing, before a pulse of red swept out from the visor and lit up four beings moving towards him from behind the distant wall. They were heading for the door to the smelting room.

He did not have time to duck back into the tunnel, and he was certain that some of them would have found the tunnels by now. Kicking down hard against the ground, he sprinted across the room and threw himself into one of the containers that had fallen from its chains and was lying on its side on the ground.

He rolled up until his back was pressed against the inside of the container, and used his helmets 360 scanners to keep track on the four man unit. Red arrows appeared at the side of his field of view telling him that they were still behind him, but were moving steadily towards him.

A creaking sound echoed through the room, the rusted metal doors groaning painfully as they were forced open. A shaft of light cut through the darkness and invaded the side of his container briefly. It passed a little too close to his foot, and he drew it back quickly.

A hissing crackle whispered in the dark as the approaching figures comlink activated.

"Yes?" a voice growled quietly.

Silence filled the gap as Taler could not hear the other side of the conversation. Blinking a few more times at the controls of his helmet, he began a rapid scan of the frequencies in use and heard his own speakers crackling as it connected to the scrambled channels used by Hydra corp.

"…him yet?" the voice asked.

"Not yet," the first replied, sounding nervous.

"Keep searching," the voice on the comlink said ominously. "Find him."

The crackling link faded, but there was enough in the background for Taler to use. Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt, he pulled out a data pad and linked it up to the system in his helmet, most of which he had salvaged from his Katarn Commando armour. The screen blinked dimly in the gloom, the screen deliberately low to avoid a glare. Tapping the controls, he set the scanners to back track along the comlink frequency, and isolate every end of line signal. He then overlaid that information onto a map of the complex he had already loaded into his helmet. The dots appeared, giving him the location of every Hydra corp. soldier in the complex.

His eyes darted to the corner of the screen and the red arrows were still there, indicating that the soldiers were still behind him.

With a flick of his fingers, he sent the data from the pad to the corner of his HUD and commanded it to update every few seconds. It was risky, as it meant that if they had someone who could slice half as well as he could then they could follow his scans back to the source and locate him. But he had to take the risk, and eliminate as many of the targets as he could before they found him.

Slipping the data pad back into his belt, he grabbed a flash bang from his belt. Pressing the small button on the top, and holding his thumb on it until he was ready to throw it, he leaned slowly outwards until he could get a glimpse around the edge of the container. The red glowing figures appeared on his HUD a few meters away, and gently, he released the flash bang, rolling it across the floor. One looked down with his blaster, the beam of light that moved with it tracking the device as it rolled towards them.

"Flash-bang," he yelled, but it was too late.

The blinding light and the deafening sound cut out the night with brilliant day, and in the moment of confusion, Taler lunged out and tackled the nearest two.

Sweeping his leg out, Taler knocked the back of the first soldier's knees. His leg buckled and he dropped sharply. As Taler stood up, he grabbed their gun and brought it upwards fast. It cracked into their face, the sound of shattering cartilage muffling their groans. They fell back onto the floor as Taler then grabbed the blaster by the barrel and spun around quickly, using it like a bat and cracking the second soldier across the side of the face. Their head snapped sharply to the side and they crumpled to the floor in a heap. The third soldier began to recover, blurred eyes trying to follow him, and he lifted his blaster. But Taler was just a little faster than he was, and in a fluid motion threw the baster he was carrying at his stomach. It hit hard, and the soldier bent over, shocked more than hurt by the impact. Taler spun and kicked out, the side of his boot impacting the side of the soldier's skull. He dropped like a sack of spice.

The last soldier stood blinking away the tears of the flash-bang, and Taler walked up to him, grabbing the knife that was tucked into the back of his belt. He lifted it and placed it against the soldier's neck.

"Drop it," Taler hissed quietly.

The solder stiffened and swallowed audibly as he lifted his arms away from his body and let the blaster he was carrying drop to the floor. Taler kicked it away.

"I don't want to kill you," Taler said calmly. "But you know by now that if I wanted to, I could."

The soldier nodded gently, the blade still pressed against his neck.

"Umm," the soldier whispered. "If you don't want to kill us, why did you shoot Yul?"

Taler felt his brow crease. He did not know the names of the soldiers.

"Who?" he hissed, putting a little more pressure on the blade, feeling it pressing into the soldiers soft neck skin.

"The Aqualish," the soldier said, his voice barely there. Taler remembered now. He had been the one with the scope, the one who he had shot. "Why did you kill him?"

"He was in my way," Taler responded, putting as much malice into his voice as he could. He knew how useful fear and intimidation was. "Any more of you get in my way, I will deal with you," Taler carried on. "But all I want is Prazon."

He looked down at the three other men who were lying on the floor at his feet. Slowly he drew the blade away from the soldier's neck and stepped back.

"Keep them safe," he said, almost as if it were a warning. "You know what will happen if they find out you didn't kill me." He backed away, and as he reached the door, he saw the soldier look from his men to the blaster rifle that Taler had kicked away from him. Taler waited, his own hand hovering beside the blaster pistol on his thigh, hoping the soldier would make the right decision.

He moved to the men who were lying on the floor.

'Good choice,' Taler thought. Grabbing the doors, he closed them behind him, sealing them inside, but making sure they were safe from Prazon's wrath.

* * *

Four more of his men had vanished from the search. From a small army of thirty soldier that he had landed with, he only had seventeen left. One man had taken out thirteen of his soldiers, and he had barely had a glimpse of his enemy. Prazon was starting to get angry. He paced quickly through one of the maintenance tunnels that ran beneath the main complex, his men behind him, struggling to keep pace.

Were they struggling to keep up with him, or were they trying to stay away from him? Prazon did not care. If the Mandalorian didn't kill them, he would.

"We just lost contact with another three men, sir," a nervous voice said from behind him. Prazon stopped in his tracks. Over half of his soldiers had been taken out now. This was far enough. Turning sharply, he stormed towards the Weequay who had just spoken and wrapped his fingers around his throat. Picking him up in his hand, he held him out, his feet kicking wildly beneath him as he struggled to breathe. Prazon turned to look at the rest of his men who stood staring up at their comrade with fear in their eyes.

"No more excuses," Prazon hissed. "No more losses. Understand?"

"But, sir," one dared to speak. Prazon glared at the group until he found the source. "How are we supposed to catch someone who we can't see? He's taken out sixteen men and we haven't seen him. He's like a ghost."

"NO!" Prazon yelled, the anger suddenly surging through his body and a wet crack signalling the destruction of the Weequay's neck. His legs stopped kicking and his whole body fell limp. Prazon let the body drop to the floor. "He is not a ghost," he growled.

"He has to be ex-military then," another whispered.

"Enough," Prazon sneered. "I don't care who you think he is. All I care about is that you find him, and you kill him. And when you have done that, bring me his head. Now, go."

Prazon watched as all but three of the men slowly edged away from him as he stood beneath a shaft of weak light that fell through the grated ceiling from the casting room above him. He looked up through the mesh, and he could see the machinery that had once forged massive pieces of beskar hull for the Mandalorian drop ships. The ceiling high above the machines was in tatters, pieces of corrugated metal torn and rusted, holes scattered across the peaked roof like open wounds. Beyond the ceiling, he could see the distant stars, gleaming down from the inky heavens, and each one with worlds waiting to be bought.

But in the darkness, something else moved. A shadow soared high overhead, running lights blinking on and off as it dropped through the atmosphere towards them. Prazon grabbed the communicator from inside his jacket pocket and dialled up one of the men he had posted to the highest building.

"What's going on?" he barked angrily.

"We have an inbound vessel, sir," the voice replied nervously. "It's a republic attack shuttle."

"What?" Prazon growled, his grip on the communicator tightening. "They are short range vessels. It can't be here alone. Where did it come from?"

"I don't know, sir," the voice replied, sounding even more scared than before.

"Well then find out," he yelled, his grip finally getting too much and the communicator in his hand imploding in a shower of sparks under the strain. Prazon threw the remains of the device into the dirt at his feet, before storming off back towards the ramp that led down into the tunnels from the main loading zone, the three remaining soldiers following him.

Walking up the ramp, he emerged from the loading zone out into the cold night air and watched as the attack shuttle began its final descent. It came to rest about a klik away from the compound, north of the perimeter walls, opposite the 'Wrath of Telos.' If they had to make a retreat to their ship, they at least had some cover.

Without saying a word, Prazon pointed to the large buildings that ran along the northern wall and sent the three soldiers who had stayed with him towards them, giving them instructions to take up positions there and provide them with cover fire should they need it. Prazon had no intention of waiting for them, and their deaths were almost a certainty. But in doing so they would give him the best chance to escape.

A muffled grunt broke the silence from a building to his right, and he knew instantly that his prey was nearby. He snarled, and walked quickly towards it.

* * *

The unconscious soldier lay beside the door where Taler had left him, his hands bound and his weapon thrown away into the pit at the centre of the room. From what Taler had been able to guess, this was where the beskar plates would come to have any impurities removed. They would be lowered into the pit in the centre of the room – that was still filled with a corrosive substance – which would clean the plates ready for transportation. The blaster had sizzled noisily as it had fallen into the pit, vanishing into the green chemicals.

"Taler, you need to hurry," a voice crackled over his comlink. It was Jenna again. "The republic shuttle just landed north of the compound. We can't get a reading on how many people are inside. But the Trailbreaker is almost ready to leave. Get back here now."

"I can't," Taler hissed. "Not yet." He looked up and saw a sheet of canvas billowing in the breeze above him. A broken window on the second floor led out to a gantry that would allow him to sneak to the norther wall. He found a ladder and began to climb up when a hand shot out from the dark and grabbed him by the ankle. He barely had time to register it being there before it pulled down sharply, and he found himself being yanked backwards off the ladder.

He slammed into the floor, and even with the armour on, he felt the air forced from his lungs. His HUD flickered as he inadvertently deactivated night vision by blinking, and his view went black. He was blind. He kicked out, his foot colliding with something fleshy, freeing his ankle. He scrambled backwards away from his attacker, his hand reaching for the blaster on this thigh. He drew it and knelt up, but his hand was grabbed and he was hoisted into the air. It did not hurt, it was the cybernetic hand he had lost, but then he felt his other hand being grabbed and his arms were now being pulled apart.

"I'll teach you to insult me," a voice growled.

Taler's eyes widened. It was Prazon. Pulling his arms together with as much strength as he could muster, he tensed and slammed his face forwards, not stopping until he felt it collide with something. Prazon gave a grunt of pain, and he let go of Taler's arms. He fell to the floor and grabbed the knife from his belt, looking up as he reactivated the night vision. A green figure flickered into view, the Besalisk rushing towards him. He had no time.

Prazon crashed into him, both now rolling across the floor. Taler rolled to a stop, finding himself near the pit at the centre of the room. The glow of the pit was interfering with his HUD, and he shook his head. Rapid footsteps behind him made him snap around again just in time to dodge Prazon. In the glow of the night vision, his eyes glowed with rage, and his razor sharp teeth were bared as he snarled, a trickle of blood seeping down from above his eye where Taler had head-butted him.

"You little worm," he growled. "You don't yet realise that you are already dead."

"I've been dead all my life," Taler snapped back, the words escaping his lips before he realised. "Only now I've got a reason to live."

He lunged at the Besalisk, dodging his first set of arms, but not fast enough to block the second. A massive fist swung at his head, and bringing up his cybernetic arm, he blocked it, sliding the blade in his other hand up into Prazon's armpit. The beast growled in pain before sweeping him aside violently, the force of the blow picking Taler up off his feet and sending him crashing into one of the supporting girders, buckling it, his helmet flying off his head. He fell to the floor in the shadows, dazed, his back hurting and his neck aching.

Prazon tipped the knife out from beneath his arm and threw it away, the metal clinking on the hard floor as it vanished into the gloom. He stormed over and reached down, grabbing hold of Taler by the collar of his armour and lifting him up. Multiple beams of light suddenly emerged into the room as the remainder of Prazon's soldiers rushed in, and Taler found himself blinded as they focused on his face.

"What?" Prazon hissed, suddenly sounding confused, which just made him even angrier.

Taler's eyes adjusted quickly and Prazon's face blurred into view. He was looking at him with uncertain rage, his eyes flicking rapidly across his face.

"Fett?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

 **The Pit**

 _Kliftoam Beskar processing plant_

 _Abandoned_

 _Concordia_

 _Second moon of Mandalore_

Prazon stared down at the Mandalorian with Fett's face as he knelt in the middle of the room, two of his biggest soldiers holding him by the arms, the others standing around with their blasters trained on him. Confusion spread through his mind like weeds, snaking in and out of his logical thoughts, making him question everything. This in turn fuelled his anger, each second that passed making his rage burn stronger.

"You are not Fett," he hissed. "You can't be him. Fett died on Geonosis at the start of this so called 'Clone' war. Every crime cartel from Coruscant to the outer rim knows that."

He squatted down in front of him, grabbing hold of the hair at the back of his head and tipping his head up so the light blinded him once more. He held his face inches from the Mandalorian, studying every aspect of his appearance, looking for anything surgery scars, hologramatical emmiters, anything that might explain how this man could look so much like Fett.

"And yet here you are, as real as the blood on your face," he said.

"That's not my blood," the Mandalorian hissed, smirking from beneath angry brows. Prazon looked confused.

"What do you mea…" he asked, but his sentence was cut short by the Mandalorian slamming his head forwards, cracking it against the plate above Prazon's nose. The impact was hard, and Prazon drew back as he felt his nose rupture and his lip split, blood spurting out onto the floor. He brought his fist up hard into the Mandalorian's stomach, enough force behind it to penetrate the armour and crack a rib inside. The Mandalorian groaned loudly.

"Who are you?" Prazon hissed, stepping back and wiping the back of his hand across his lips, wiping away the blood, feeling the cut sting.

"He's with me," another voice cut across the silence.

A bolt of energy shot out through the darkness and lanced through the shoulder of one of the soldiers who was holding the Mandalorian down. He lost his grip, and in a lightning blur, the Mandalorian brought his arm up into the second soldier's stomach, driving the air from his lungs and breaking free from his grip.

"Taler," the voice yelled. "Move."

The Mandalorian, now identified as Taler, leapt to his feet and lunged at the nearest soldier, grabbing him by the wrist and swinging him around in front of his chest, using him as a meat shield, as a volley of blaster bolts from the other soldiers peppered the air around him. The blaster shots did not last long as another red pulse shot from the gloom and silenced another of Prezon's soldiers.

Prazon looked around around and finally saw a figure up in the gantries above them, hidden in the darkness. Lights began to swing around towards the figure, and as it panned up his body, he saw that they were wearing Republic Trooper armour. The lights swept up further, and lit up his face. Prazon stared in disbelief as he found himself once again looking up at another Fett.

"A'den," Taler yelled. "Behind you." The figure spun around as a Nikto guard ran up behind him, his arms swinging wildly as they fought.

"What?" Prazon barked, moments before realisation began to set in.

He looked from Taler who was slowly eliminating his men in a blur of movement – a shattered arm, a broken leg, a fracture jaw - to the figure who was standing above them, wrestling with the Nikto, his Republic armour gleaming in the darkness.

Rage overtook him and he lost all control. Picking up the nearest blaster he could find, he aimed it at the supports of the gantry and fired, the energy bolts tearing through the cables and severing them in a shower of sparks. The gantry fell, the soldier and the Nikto tumbling from it, vanishing into a cloud of dust as it slammed into the machinery below.

He turned his blaster towards Taler and mercilessly mowed down anyone who got in his way. Half of his remaining men fell to his own blaster bolts as he cleared a way through to the Mandalorian named Taler. The soldier Taler was fighting took three bolts to his back and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, leaving Taler exposed. Another three bolts shot out towards him and crackled noisily against his chest armour, the last slipping through the gap between his chest plate and his shoulder. Prazon watched as his arm snapped backwards from the impact and he fell to his knees. Throwing away the blaster, he reached out and grabbed Taler by the throat.

"You're a clone?" he growled, hauling him up into the air. Taler's hands grabbed hold of his wrist, trying to prise them off his neck while holding up his body, postponing suffocation. "A lesser being? A laboratory experiment?"

He brought his hammer-like fist across in a brutal blow, cracking it against Taler's jaw. He let out a pained grunt as his head snapped aside. Slowly, Taler brought his head back up, staring back at him defiantly. This just enraged Prazon more.

"You really thought you could take me on, and win?" Prazon whispered.

He punched him again, his knuckles smashing against his face. Once again, Taler lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Prazon's and glaring back at him.

"You're nothing more than cannon fodder," he hissed, breaking another punch across his already bloodied and bruised jaw. "A _wet droid_." He drew his arm back and swung it forwards again, ready to deliver the final death blow.

But Taler's hand shot up and intercepted the punch, his fingers closing tight around Prazon's fist, stopping it in its tracks. Prazon looked at his hand and them back at Taler and saw his face contorted in anger.

"I am not… a… DROID!" he screamed. "My name is Taler Galaar. I am the son of Kyr'am Galaar. I am a Mandalorian. And you will pay for threatening my family." The mechanical hand that still clung to his wrists tightened suddenly, the bones in his own wrist shattering under the pressure. His grip on Taler's throat vanished and he let him fall.

* * *

Taler's feet touched the floor and he instantly kicked out hard, lunging at Prazon's stomach, wrapping his arms around him and lifting him off the floor before slamming him down bodily. A cloud of dust exploded into the air from beneath them, and Taler pummelled his fists down hard into Prazon's face. The Besalisk swung his heavy arms out and knocked Taler aside. Taler rolled away and stood up, turning as Prazon charged at him. He found himself tapped in the vice like grip of all four arms wrapped around him, squeezing tighter and tighter, his ribs and spine slowly being crushed.

"You don't have a family, _clone_ ," Prazon hissed.

A bolt of energy shot through the air and sliced through Prazon's upper shoulder, his grip suddenly slack. He released Taler and stumbled backwards and fell against a support column.

"Yes, he does," A'den said. Taler spun around to look behind him and he could see A'den staggering out from the pile of debris, a smoking blaster in one hand, his other arm handing painfully limp by his side. Staggering a few more feet, he slumped against a nearby wall and fell to the ground. He was alive, that was enough for now. Taler turned to face the Besalisk, his usually immaculately tailored suit now stained with dirt and blood, and a smouldering hole in his shoulder.

They glared at each other for long moments, Taler gathering his strength, Prazon snarling with rage, his eyes flickering with madness.

"You're pathetic," Prazon spat, a mouthful of blood dropping onto the dusty floor at his feet. "No one can defeat me," he added angrily.

Taler did not speak. He had never faced an opponent like this, not even in training. He had been taught to kill with blaster, blade, explosive and almost every other kind of weapon that existed in the universe, but it had always been quick, and without speaking. Even the hand to hand combat exercises had been relatively silent. It had also been simple, no complications.

But this was personal. He could feel the rage flooding his body, like the feelings he had experienced on Hoth. Like the Jedi, this man had hurt him personally, had threatened one of the few things that made him feel like a worthwhile being. The Jedi had taken his brothers from him, and now Prazon was trying to take his father from him.

The Besalisk ran towards him again, but Taler was ready. They grabbed each other's outstretched hands, locking them together and digging their feet into the ground as each tried to push the other. Prazon's second pair of hands grabbed hold of Taler's wrists, forcibly trying to break them. Taler resisted, tensing and putting all his strength into his arms. His feet began to slip, the larger Prazon slowly forcing him back. The pit at the centre of the room grew nearer.

"You were never meant to beat me, _clone_ ," Prazon growled, his face inches away from Taler.

Taler could feel his wrists starting to buckle, and he pushed back as hard as he could but he continued to slip backwards.

"You were made to die, _clone_ ," Prazon taunted again. "It's all that you are good for. Let me help you fulfil your destiny."

Taler feet reached the edge of the pit. He snapped his face up to look directly into the Besalisk's face.

"Let's die together," he hissed. He knocked Prazon's hands away from own and grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket. In one fluid motion, he threw himself backwards into the pit, dragging the Besalisk with him.

The world fell around them, the screams of the Besalisk echoing around them. A hand shot out from the darkness above him. It grabbed hold of Taler's wrist, and he swung wildly into the side of the pit, his back slamming into the wall. His eyes shot up the lip, and he found himself staring back at his own face, contorted in pain and grimacing with concentration.

A sickening splash silenced Prezon's cry, and Taler watched him clawing at the sides as he slid beneath the surface.

Silence descended.

A grunt of pain brought his attention back to the rim of the pit.

"A'den?" he said, looking up.

"Shut up and climb," the Null ARC replied.

* * *

Taler stood in the middle of the processing plant, the empty buildings looming over them like shadows in the night. The cold air felt soothing against his swollen jaw and it filled his lungs, numbing the pain of his shattered ribs. He held his helmet in his hand, the detached comlink hanging from his ear.

"How is he?" he wheezed, speaking quietly into the microphone.

"He's stable," Jenna's soft voice replied. He felt his heart skip as she spoke, but he could not tell if it was her tone of the words that affecting him. "Sparky and Madhi have got the ship up and running again. Comms has been repaired too, but we haven't tried sending any messages because of the Republic cruiser parked in orbit."

As she said these words, A'den shuffled from the shadows of the nearest door and walked towards Taler, his arm still worryingly limp by his side.

"Don't worry about that," Taler said. "I'll sort it. Prep the ship, I'll be back soon."

Without waiting for a response, he cut the link and walked towards the Null ARC.

"You really should get that looked at, you know," Taler said, pointing towards the arm that swayed as he walked. A'den looked down at it as though he was just noticing it for the first time. He grabbed hold of his bicep, and in one sickeningly fast motion, he slipped it back into its socket, a wet _shluck_ stifling his groan of pain. He looked up at Taler and smiled.

"A couple of days in bacta and it will be as good as new again," A'den replied.

Silence descended between them, and Taler looked down at the dust between his feet.

"So what now?" he asked. "You taking me in?" His conversation with A'den was still fresh in his mind, his eidetic memory a blessing as well as a curse.

"No," A'den said with a sad smile. "But I can't help you anymore. I was only able to help you because we were still in system and I wanted to make sure you were okay. From here on out though, you're on your own. If you pop up on their radar again, they will come looking for you."

"I know," Taler said with a sigh. "But now I got a reason to keep fighting."

"I figured as much," A'den said with a smile. "Nothing gives you the urge to live more than having a family to protect. Speaking of which," he added, reaching into the back of his belt with his good arm. He brought his hand out in front of Taler and handed him two side arm blasters. Taler took them and turned them over, seeing Vin and Jay's names craved into the handles. "Keep them safe," A'den added.

"Thank you," Taler said quietly. A'den stepped forward and placed his hand on Taler's shoulder, looking his straight in the eye.

"Kal'buir would be proud of you," A'den said. " _K'oyacyi, vod._ " A'den nodded and turned to walk away back towards his shuttle, the words he had spoken still floating inside Taler's head.

"What does that mean?" Taler called out after him. A'den did not break his stride or turn around. He merely yelled back to him.

"It means 'stay alive, brother.'"

* * *

The roar of the engines drifted across the abandoned beskar processing plant, the wind billowing silently through the shattered windows. Silence fell over the motionless bodies that littered the sandy desert floor. The wind snaked through the open door of one of the larger buildings, disturbing the dust that had long since settled. Weaving across the floor it crept over the lip of the pit.

A hand shot out from the pit, blistered and burnt skin exposing bones and flesh beneath. It clawed at the ground, bloody hand prints staining the floor as a figure pulled itself out. Eyes emerged over the lip, glaring out towards the door, the skin burnt away from the right side, smoke still rising from the charred flesh.

A deathly scream echoed out through the deep darkness.

"CLONE!"


End file.
